He changed his drawing to reflect what she said. “How’s this?”
“Exactly,” she smiled at him.
“Ok, let’s look back here and you can tell me what you’re thinking about for the kitchen.”
They walked towards the back of the space while the owner busied herself, giving them time to talk. Juliette gazed around her.
“It’s amazing, I can see it already. What I would want is an island cook top here. A big square with lots of counter space.” She paused and looked around her. “And a large fridge here with a bank of ovens next to it. Then a separate walk-in fridge and freezer right there,” she pointed. “The dish area would also have to be enclosed.” She turned around wondering what would make sense.
“Maybe there?” he pointed.
“Yes, I think that would work. I wonder if I could pick up some of that stuff secondhand.”
“I’m sure you could. It’s just a matter of searching it out.”
They talked through more details and took a look behind the space. Juliette grew increasingly excited, but tried to rein herself in and not show too much. She knew she didn’t exactly have a poker face, but she reminded herself to at least keep up a cool façade if possible.
“I think I have what I need,” Ian said, putting his sketchbook and yellow legal pad back into his satchel. “I’ll put my thoughts together and then we can meet to talk about what it would take to make it happen.”
“Thanks. And thanks for coming on such short notice,” Juliette said and walked him to the door. “Remember, I’m just a poor girl with a dream, so if you could think about how to make this fabulous while not breaking the bank, I’d appreciate it!”
“Will do,” Ian laughed. “Extraordinary on a budget. Not to worry. Consider it done.”
“Perfect. And you’ll call me about it soon?”
“As soon as I possibly can, if not sooner,” he smiled again and waved while he walked backwards away from her. “In fact, practically immediately,” he smiled his farewell.
Wow, how great is he? Juliette thought. as she turned back to talk to the owner. A contractor who not only shows up, but takes notes, sketches, is incredibly nice, and looks great in a suit. Then she shoved that last bit under the rug.
Stop it, she told herself. He’s probably another heartless guy who seems nice but would trample her heart given half a chance. Then she reprimanded herself for that sentiment as well. She had never been a bitter man-hater and was determined not to let herself become one because of what Roman did. Nonetheless, she was far from ready to jump back in, no matter how charming her potential contractor was.
She brought herself back to the situation at hand. The space was perfect. She only hoped she could afford it.
After talking with the owner about a few more details, Juliette inhaled deeply and asked about the rent. The property owner jotted a number down and handed it to Juliette.
“Ouch,” Juliette said when she took a peek at the figure on the page, but in truth a sense of relief flooded her for two reasons. The first was that the number wasn’t as high as she’d feared it would be. The second was that Juliette found negotiating stressful and was happy to be able to jot down a lower number than say she wanted to pay less out loud. “Any chance this is negotiable?”
“Not much. What did you have in mind?”
“Well, I have to talk to my contractor about what it would take to make the renovations that would be required, but I was thinking more along the lines of this,” she handed the paper back with a number that was several hundred a month lower.
“Possibly,” she said. “Why don’t you talk to him and then we can chat again.”
“Sounds good,” Juliette said shaking her hand. “I’ll be in touch soon.”
After Juliette left, she casually strolled down the block until she turned the corner. She looked over her shoulder to make sure she was out of sight, then ran to the nearest bench, grabbed her phone out of her bag and speed dialed her dad.
“Hey,” she said when he picked up. “I just looked at the building and the space is amazing! It’s exactly what I want, but...”
“But?” Juliette could hear the smile in her dad’s voice.
“It’s the first space I’ve actually looked at. Would it be wise to jump in before looking at other stuff?”
“If it’s everything you want, what’s the problem?”
“What if it’s not a good deal? And I don’t know that it’s not a good deal because I haven’t compared it to other places?”
“Well, why don’t you take a look at all the rentals in the file I gave you. They all show square footage and the rent amount, so that should at least give you an idea of whether you’re in the right ballpark. You can even drive by some of them to get a better sense about them. How did the price she gave you seem?”
“That’s the thing, maybe I was just assuming the worst, but it wasn’t actually as high as I thought it would be.”
“You should put some numbers together and we’ll do some feasibility work and create a business plan. You’ll have to take a good, honest look at how much you think you can bring in every month and then look at your expenses.”
“I’ve done that over and over already. Maybe you could come over and see what I’ve done and let me know what you think.”
“OK, but you know, your mom was the one with the business sense. Why don’t we have Gina come, too? She’s used to looking at monthly profitability reports. She’ll have good insight.”
“Maybe I could cook you guys dinner, and we can talk about it. I’ll see if Gina’s free, then call you back.”
“Sorry,” Gina told her when Juliette got a hold of her. “I can’t tonight. I’ve got a date.”
“You have a date? You didn’t say anything about it.”
“I’m saying something now.”
“Shoot,” Juliette said. “How about getting together tomorrow instead? I’ll cook.”
“Sounds great. Can we have eggplant parmigiana? I’ve been having a craving lately.”
“Done!” Juliette said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then she hung up and finalized the plan with her dad, too.
Juliette would have loved to talk with Roman about the space. She desperately missed him, but when she did think about him she inevitably visualized his girlfriend snuggled up with him on the couch that she had so recently vacated. She sighed and put her hand on her chest. It still hurt, but at least she was home and diving back into her life. She had to admit, she was extremely excited about the building she had found, and was happy to have something new on which to focus.
She spent the rest of the day checking websites for used appliances to get a sense of the price of things. She also looked at some incredible new industrial stoves and refrigerators, because a girl’s got to dream, and then she focused on floor treatments. What would go well with brick walls and cement counter tops? She thought through several options then finally narrowed it down to either wide-plank wood floors or a dark-gray slate. Or maybe wood floors stained dark gray. That could be nice, too. There were going to be so many decisions to make.
She knew exactly what kind of windows she wanted. The ones on the building now were boring and nondescript, and they made the facade look like a bank. The fact that Ian had noticed the same thing made her feel hopeful about his design sensibility. Juliette knew that large paned windows with black metal casings would look perfect. She wanted ones that opened to let in fresh air during the warm months.
She’d paint the ceiling the color of butter or maybe sage. And buy brushed-aluminum chairs with wooden tables to juxtapose the warm with the cool.
She wondered how long it would take for Ian to work up an estimate for the project. She liked the questions he asked and felt that he understood her vision. He seemed sharp and intelligent, and so far she liked the prospect of working with him; however, a lot would depend on his estimate. And, she reminded herself, absolutely no getting emotionally involved with him. She would keep her di
stance. Keep it professional this time. No mixing work with pleasure.
Over the next few days she jumped with anticipation every time the phone rang and chewed the ears off of her family and friends until they were sick of the topic. But the person whom she most wanted to hear from was Ian. Finally, after an excruciating two weeks, he called to set up a meeting.
She was on pins and needles until the moment arrived. The feeling reminded her of childhood Christmas mornings, when she’d sit on her hands and bounce on the couch until it was time to open her presents.
He was waiting at the same table where they had met weeks before, his triple shot Americano in front of him and a large latte waiting on Juliette’s side.
“You remembered my drink,” she said, impressed.
“Photographic memory,” he joked, pointing to his forehead while reaching into his satchel for the proposal.
Juliette looked through as Ian laid out his plan in detail. She had suggestions here and there, but for the most part, he had not only gotten the sense of what she wanted, but improved upon it. He even surprised her by designing an outside eating area on the side of the restaurant. He had surrounded it with a heavy trellis and planters around the edges to create a sense of defined space. She was almost as excited at the prospect of that as she was about the inside. It would add table space and ambiance.
The cost was jarring, but she had expected as much. The reality was, because of her mother’s generosity, she could afford it, even though it would mean putting her inheritance on the line. She hoped she was correct in her newfound belief that her mom would have wanted her to do this. Juliette looked at the ring and thought about Catarina’s bravery in getting on the ship when she was much younger than Juliette was now.
“Let’s do it,” Juliette said, looking at him with eyebrows raised as if to say “So, are you in?”
Ian laughed. “That’s it? Just, ‘Let’s do it’ with no revisions, no complaints, nothing?”
“Trust me,” she reassured him. “I’ve obsessed over this ad nauseam. I’ve questioned the project, I’ve questioned myself and whether I’m up to the task, the feasibility of it, everything I can imagine going wrong, over and over again. I’ve been thinking about this for years. Now I’m ready to jump in. So, yes, let’s go for it. I mean . . . you know . . . not to say that we won’t want to change things here and there.” She nodded towards the design.
“I’m in,” Ian said, and reached across the table to shake hands with Juliette. “I’m looking forward to it. I think we can make this great.”
“Me too,” Juliette said, laughing nervously, hoping her mother would approve. It was truly going to happen.
“So, maybe we should go out for champagne instead of drinking coffee,” Ian suggested.
“Unorthodox, but an excellent idea! Let’s go,” Juliette said, closing the estimate and tucking it into her bag to review later.
“I know exactly where we can get a nice glass of champagne at this hour,” Ian told her.
“I won’t even ask how you’d know that,” Juliette said.
She noticed Ian took several large sips of his coffee before standing up.
“So I don’t get a headache,” he explained.
“You did confess to being an addict when we were here last time,” Juliette reminded him.
When they arrived at their next destination they sat by a window that was open, even though the fire in the fireplace was ablaze to stave off the morning chill. Ian placed the order.
“Special occasion?” the server asked them with a smile. “Did you two just get engaged, perhaps?”
“You could say that,” Ian laughed, before Juliette could get out her earnest, “No.”
“In that case, the champagne is on the house.”
“No, no, you really don’t need to do that,” Ian protested, and shot Juliette a look that said, ‘Uh oh, now I’ve done it!’
“It’s our treat,” she said, and walked over to the bar to place the order.
“Oops,” Juliette said, and nodded to the bar, where the server and the bartender were obviously talking about them and smiling. In truth, she couldn’t imagine feeling any more euphoric if she had just become engaged. “We can leave her a big tip to ease our consciences,” she said, and then continued, “So, do you always go out drinking with clients when they say ‘yes’ to your bids?”
“This is the first time, actually. It just seemed fitting,” Ian said as the champagne arrived. “Cheers!”
They touched glasses. “Cheers,” she responded.
As they settled in, Juliette took a closer look at Ian. She noticed his brown hair was wavy and had a slightly shaggy look. His eyes were light green, flecked with gold, and she could tell that he was prone to a five o’clock shadow. He was wearing jeans and a button-down instead of the suit today, but he looked just as good. She caught herself gazing at him too intently and turned to look out the window.
“So, since we’re going to be spending so much time together, why don’t you tell me more about you,” Ian prompted. “Tell me your story.”
After two more glasses of champagne, Juliette felt as if she and Ian knew the bones of each other’s life stories. She started to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Ian asked.
“I just realized that I’m too drunk to drive and it’s still before noon. I’m so ashamed.”
“I’m in the same boat. I think we need to either walk this off or each take cabs. What’s your preference?”
“Let’s walk it off,” Juliette said, gathering her purse and following Ian outside. “Then I’m going home to take a nap before I call my future landlord to tell her I’ll take the space. I’m a bit of an irresponsible entrepreneur already, aren’t I?”
“At least you know to sober up before making business calls,” he raised one eyebrow at her. “You have that going for you.”
“You’re right. I guess I’m not so bad after all. Listen, we have to make some important decisions.”
“Always a good idea to do after drinking,” Ian chuckled. “What do you have in mind?”
“Let’s talk timing.”
“Well, I’m in the middle of a project right now—although I think I have to take the rest of today off,” he smirked at her. “My project should wrap up in about a month and a half. That’s about right for dovetailing in with your project, because it’s going to take at least a couple of months for us to make working plans, get all of the permits, and have everything signed off before we can start hammering away on the building.”
“Two months? . . . All right. Can you still work on plans with me while you’re finishing the other project?”
“Sure. We can meet during lunch or in the evenings if we need to.”
“Great,” she said. They were in front of one of Juliette’s favorite stores, so she decided it was a good place to make a graceful exit. “I think I’ll say goodbye here,” she said, indicating that she was going to go in.
“Seriously, no driving home until you’re sure you’re fine.”
“I promise. And that goes for you, too.”
“Bye then,” Ian said, and reached out to shake her hand. But instead held it while he leaned forward and kissed her cheek the way he had when they had met for the first time at the café.
Between their extraordinary meeting the day of the accident, having coffee weeks before and champagne today, they had begun a comfortable friendship. She smiled at the thought of their unexpected morning. She browsed around the store in somewhat of a daze before stepping outside to call her friend, Christine. She couldn’t wait to tell her the news. As she unlocked her phone, a vision of her giddily drinking celebratory champagne with Ian, coupled with the departing cheek kiss, flitted across her mind. So much for not getting emotionally involved, she chided herself. But, she decided, there was no harm in becoming friends. They would be spending large quantities of time together, but it was business. She reminded herself of that as she scrolled down her contacts then dialed the n
umber.
Chapter 21
CATARINA, LEARNING TO READ, SPILLING COFFEE, AND SEEING GREGORIO AGAIN
Catarina spread a picnic blanket out on a gently sloping lawn in Golden Gate Park. The park was vast, sprawling, and beautiful, with trees, meandering pathways, and vibrantly colorful gardens. The day was unusually warm. October had been a month of sunshine for which she was grateful. She’d found the weeks of fog and cool breezes had put a damper on her appreciation of her new home. She longed for the sunshine and heat of Italy, and warm summer nights when her family ate dinner outside. Here, by evening, she had to add a sweater to keep warm and she was quickly learning to knit out of necessity.
She was content to sit on the frayed lemon-yellow blanket she and Franco had brought. She unpacked the food and sliced some cheese to snack on, along with cured green olives and fresh, crusty bread. Franco pulled a book out of his pocket and held it up for her to see.
Catarina lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the sunlight so she could see which one he’d brought. It was a child’s nursery rhyme collection that he was using to teach her to read in English. The stories were silly and nonsensical, but she loved her reading lessons. They had taken to conducting them in the park or in their room in the evenings.
Franco enjoyed teaching his new wife to read English. They went together every week to check books out of the library. Catarina loved the dusty smell of the paper and the old cloth stitched together to form bindings. She liked to open up books at random and put her face against the pages, inhaling deeply. Franco laughed when she did it, and sometimes shook his head in amusement, but his mirth didn’t stop her. She found the scent appealing. There were so many words. Sometimes she would run her fingers along the lines of printing. For now, most of the words were a mystery to her, but she knew someday the combinations of letters, now foreign, would make sense.
Catarina took the book Franco held out and looked through the pages. The illustrations helped her understand what was going on, but there were still fewer words than she would have liked that she could read on her own. She ran her finger along the lines of the text on the first page and said “the” aloud every time she came to it. And then did the same with other words that she now thought of as “her friends”: the ones she was comfortable with. Her group of friends was expanding every day.
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